Pentecost 13

Aug. 26, 2007
The Rev. David R. Hackett

In the Collect appointed for this day we prayed that the Church, “being gathered together in unity by the Holy Spirit, may show forth God’s power…” As I considered that prayer, its plea for unity in the church, and what I wanted to say to you this morning, I remembered a story a comedian by the name of Emo Phillips used to tell:

In a conversation with a person I had recently met, I asked, “Are you Protestant or Catholic?” My new acquaintance replied, “Protestant.” I said, “Me too! What franchise?” He answered, “Baptist.” “Me too!” I said. “Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?” “Northern Baptist,” he replied. “Me too!” I shouted. We continued to go back and forth. Finally I asked, “Northern Conservative Fundamentalist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Fundamentalist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1912?” He replied, “Northern Conservative Fundamentalist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1912.” I said, “Die, heretic!”

We can substitute Episcopal for Baptist.

What is the basis of our unity today? As Episcopalians and as Christians we are so sadly divided. And each division is caught up in being right. We are so intent on seeing that our views are the winning views. Everybody seems to want to change everybody else into their image and likeness of what real Christians should be.

If you are pro-life, then you put down the godless, secularist pro-choicers. If you are pro-choice, you hold in contempt all those religious zealots who want to make their anti-abortion stand everybody’s litmus test. If you voted for table gambling, you may think of those who voted against it as religious extremists. If you are against table gambling, you may see those who are for it as morally deficient or atheistic. If you are an advocate of the blessing of same-sex unions, you tend to scorn those conservative Christians who differ with you as being homophobic biblical literalists. On the other hand, if you believe that the Bible and the Church speak sternly against such unions, then you accuse homosexuals as living outside the revealed will of God. If you are a traditionalist, you look down your bifocals at the “new prayer book” wit its inclusive language as yet another liberal plot, while the folks who prefer contemporary liturgy view the traditionalists as hopelessly uniformed and archaic. If you are a charismatic Christian and think the best way to really praise God is through one version or another of a camp song like Kumbaya, then you tend to disdain the hymnody of the church which is what trained musicians want. High-brow church musicians, on the other hand, look down on renewal music as tasteless, simplistic tunes. Feminists in the church reproach the ecclesiastical “old boys” network, and opponents discredit feminists as another pushy offshoot of cultural modernism. There. Have I left anyone out? I do try to be inclusive!

This squabbling, disjointed contentiousness which characterizes the church is hardly the unity for which we pray. Inherent in every division is the belief that we know God’s will. That was the case of the Hebrew people to whom the prophet Isaiah spoke and with whom he contended. He said that God would make justice and righteousness the plumb line to gauge the people of Israel who, thinking they knew the will of the Lord, had distorted God’s truth. And, he said, God would shake the foundations of their beliefs and assumptions and correct those distortions.

Several centuries later another prophet by the name of Jesus in response to the question, “Will only a few be saved?”, in other words, “Who’s in and who’s out?”, said those of you who think you know God will be surprised at who will be invited to the kingdom; those of you who seem to have known God the best won’t even be recognized by God. And here’s the surprise: “Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” We are being warned in today’s scripture of the danger of religious certainty.

The danger of certainty: there is a tendency within all of us to believe that reality has been pretty much defined and delineated. Someone has called this “the terminal disease of certainty.” Think about it. Centuries ago the Church was certain that Copernicus was wrong. The Church, and the majority of people, were certain that the sun revolved around the earth. Most people “knew” that the world was flat. There was a time when people “knew” that you couldn’t fly faster than the speed of sound, or who “knew” that a four-minute mile could never be run; or who “knew” that blacks were to ride at the back of the bus; or who “knew” that Communism would be the downfall of America. There were those who “knew” room-sized computers would never be reduced to laptops.

When we suffer from this “terminal disease of certainty”, we take the things that “are” for granted. We do that when it comes to our religion. There was a time when it was thought by some in the church, led by the chief apostle Peter, that in order to be a Christian one had to observe the dietary laws of the Hebrew scriptures. There was a time when the role of women was defined by a culture in which they were basically chattel property, and it was seen as scriptural. There was a time when slavery was defended by quoting the Bible. There was a time when the priesthood of the Church was restricted to males because Jesus only called males as apostles. We are always faced with the danger of religious certainty. Jesus constantly confronted the religious leaders of his day because they were spiritually arrogant and religiously certain. And because he challenged them they crucified him.

So, what is certain when it comes to your faith? Do remember that our faith is rarely without doubt. Doubt is not the opposite of faith, it is part of faith. Just this week letters of Mother Theresa’s written to her confessor were published. What a terrible thing to have the seal of the confessional broken and even worse to be published. In those letters she confessed that she doubted and this was a long period of doubt. The media has made much of this, but Christians should known that this is not unusual, even for a saint; perhaps, especially for a saint. Most of us, at some time, experience that “dark night of the soul.”

But what is certain when it comes to your faith? Several years ago I was asked a question as part of an interview process, “What is irreducible for you when it comes to the Christian faith?” It’s a great question. How do you answer it? What’s absolutely basic? Each of us has to respond for ourselves. For me, I ended up reciting the Apostles’ Creed. There’s nothing in it about the various factions which we so readily argue about; nothing about who’s in or who’s out.

How do you respond? Each of you has to decide what is irreducible about the Christian faith for you. No one can answer for you. However you do answer remember this: beware of religious certainty, but be certain of God’s love. And don’t forget, “Some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”

Amen.